Grayson's Eleven
by SushiChica
Summary: Seven guys. Four girls. 150 million. The heist of the century. You do the math. But could there be more to Dick Grayson’s brilliant scheme than he’s telling? Either you’re in or you’re out. Right now. RobStar RaeBB CyBee TroiaSpeedy
1. The Hearing

Dick Grayson smiled grimly as he was lead from his jail cell. If all went well, he'd be out of the joint in a couple of hours. All he had to do was smooth things over at his hearing. The guard who'd picked him up a mere five minutes ago shoved the ebony haired twenty five year old into the hearing room, where he was instructed to take a seat. Seeing only one chair at the center of the room, Dick took it. He faced two people- a man and a woman. Judges or attorneys or something of that effect, he was sure. The woman greeted him as he sat.

"Good morning." She didn't smile. Tough crowd.

"G'morning." Dick folded his hands across his lap and tried to look somewhat pleasant.

"Please state your name for the record." The woman had a voice like liquid ice; cold and flowing.

"Dick Grayson." No point in lying about that. It's not like they didn't already know who he was.

"Thank you." The woman glanced at the tape recorder to her right, then nodded to her male partner and continued. "Mr. Grayson, the purpose of this hearing is to determine, if released, you are likely to break the law again." The woman glanced down at her notes. "While this was your first conviction, you have been implicated, though never charged, in over a dozen other confidence schemes and frauds. What can you tell us about this?" Dick bowed his head in what he hoped would be taken as a gesture of respect.

"Well as you say m'am, I was never charged."

"Mr. Grayson," The male was speaking now, pushing his wire rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, "what we're trying to find out is…was there a reason you chose to commit this crime? Or was there a reason you simply got _caught_ this time?"

"Well…my girlfriend left me…I was upset…" That much was true enough. "I got into a…self destructive pattern." More like careless, but he'd done enough self-admonishment in his year long prison sentence.

"If released," the woman spoke again, "is it likely you'd fall back into a similar pattern?"

"She already left me once." Dick adverted his gaze. Suddenly the brick wall to his right was very interesting. If the woman didn't know any better, she'd say she saw hurt in his blue eyes. "I don't think she'd do it again just for kicks."

"Mr. Grayson…" The woman bit her lip, looking at the convict critically. This was a crucial question. "What do you think you _would_ do, if released?"

What would Dick Grayson do? Nothing that the parole officers would approve of, that was for sure. But they didn't have to know about that.

Not yet.

* * *

Born of my insane obsession with Ocean's Eleven. The cast will be revealed as we go along…for those of you who have seen the movie, I hope you like it. To those of you who haven't…I hope I don't confuse you.

Love,  
SushiChica


	2. Karen Beecher aka Monique

Dick strode through the double paneled bullet proof doors of jail, slipping sunglasses over his eyes with an aloof air about him. He could feel the eyes of the guards who had released him just minutes ago on his back, following his form out the premises. To hell with them; he was a citizen again, albeit a citizen on probation. Hailing a taxi, he grinned and set off toward a famous casino in the approximate area.

There was someone he needed to see, and it wouldn't even violate his parole.

Yet.

* * *

**Trump Casino, Utah**

Karen Beecher drummed her fingers on the unused poker table to her side. The man who stood before her was a good four inches shorter that she, and a whole lot less composed. He was spluttering something about a broken slot machine. The dark skinned beauty resisted the burning desire to roll her eyes, but instead nodded occasionally and muttered some words bout discussing the customer's concerns with the casino manager. To be quite honest she didn't give a damn and was hardly listening. This was supposed to be her break, one of three daily times where she could give her hands a rest after countless card dealings. She'd do absolutely anything to get away from this idiot…

A man who looked about the age of twenty something and wore sunglasses, indoors oddly, caught Karen's eye, and the girl could barely withhold a gasp of surprise. She'd completely forgotton…

The pretty girl hastily excused herself from the customer's heated lecture on how to run a proper casino, saying that she had to take up her post now and that the manager's office was on the other side of the lobby. The man with the sunglasses had taken a seat at a blackjack table. With a gentle tap, Karen excused the woman who'd been dealing and took her place.

"Goin' on break now…" The previous woman smiled and nodded at the ebony haired twenty year old. "Good luck." Karen nervously took the blond woman's place and found herself face to face with a smile that was all to familiar.

"How are you today, sir?" She asked courteously, collecting the cards and shuffling them professionally.

"Hello, Karen." The girl froze, her eyes drifting from the cards to the man's face in silent tension.

"I'm sorry, sir, you must have me mistaken for some else. My name is Monique, as you can see right here." She gestured to her name tag which did indeed read _Monique_ and the man smirked.

"…It was my mistake. Table's cold anyways." He stood up, preparing to leave.

"You could try the bar lounge." Karen suggested slyly, pointing to the tiny cove near the entrance of the casino. "It gets busy after one o' clock."

"One o' clock?" The man nodded, and the dark twenty three year old could've sworn she'd seen a mischievous glint under his dark mirrored sunglasses. "Thanks, Monique."

"Thank you…" Karen replied to the man's retreating back. A familiar excitement bubbled in her stomached. Something promising always happened when Dick Grayson came to town. And fresh out of jail, he was sure to be full of ideas.

* * *

The ebony haired man sat at a small table in the bar lounge, sipping a beer and scanning the day old newspaper article in his hand.

"_Bruce Wayne, renown billionaire of Gotham City, was shot to death a month ago, a fact at which we are all well aware. Investigations have been ongoing, but no evidence has turned up. The police have announced that their best and only lead is the red 'X' painted upon the wall next to where Bruce Wayne's body was found. Wayne's ward, Dick Grayson, is to incidentally be released from prison tomorrow and inherit a large sum of the inheritance. While the police suspected Grayson for a short period of time, such accusations were immediately dropped upon learning that the billionaire's ward was in jail-"_

"Yo, checkin' up on current events?" Karen Beecher sat down across the table from her friend, now dressed in plainclothes as opposed to her casino uniform with a leather jacket hanging over her shoulders.

"Monique?" Dick inclined his head to acknowledge her presence and put down the waif of paper.

"Pleased to meet you." Betty laughed merrily. "I had to change my name to Monique Gardner after that last job. Karen Beecher can't get past the Gaming Commission without heavy inquiry."

"Interesting." Dick took another taste of the amber liquid in his cup. "Have you seen her?"

"Man, last I heard she was teaching movie stars how to meditate." Karen tilted her head to the side with a smirk. "Why? You got another plan already?"

"What, are you kidding?" The ebony haired boy drained the rest of the beer and smiled. "I just became a citizen again."

* * *

"Mr. Parker?" Dick stood at a telephone booth outside the casino, darkness veiling his presence, fingering a small card in his hand. As he spoke, his warm breath formed white clouds in the chilling air. The voice on the other end was stiff and hard.

"Yes?"

"This is Dick Grayson. I was told to contact you within twenty four hours of my release."

"Ah yes! Mr. Grayson! Excellent to see you taking responsibility! That's the first step to freedom you know!"

"I was under the impression that I was already free."

"Free, but with restrictions. Now, have you committed any crimes whatsoever since you were released?"

"If I did, would I really tell you?" Dick rolled his eyes, imagining the short balding man on the other end of the phone.

"Answer the question, sir! This is serious!" Mr. Parker spluttered, flustered at the sarcasm in the criminal's voice.

"No, sir, I have not committed any crimes since I was released."

"Good!" It seemed that the man had calmed. "Have you been drinking?"

"No, sir, I haven't been drinking."

"Don't patronize me!" The parole officer snapped, annoyed. Dick raised a surprised and slightly amused eyebrow, not that the man on the other end of the line could see it.

"I wasn't."

"Very well. Have you left Utah?"

"No sir." Dick Grayson grinned. He'd already told one lie. Another couldn't hurt. "I wouldn't even think about leaving the state."

* * *

Yes! My chapters are very short! But they will get longer! I promise you that!

There has actually been a change of plans. I'm gonna be mixing Ocean's Eleven and The Italian Job, my two FAVORITE movies. So, this fic is going to take heavily from both, but it'll have it's own charms as well.

Oh! And Karen Beecher is Bumblebee. Sorry bout the mixup!

Enjoy!

Love,  
SushiChica


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